Red Fish Pond

[mortalcoil]

Who: Anyone aboard the SS Red Fish
Broadcast: Probably Not
Action: SS Red Fish
When: Through the end of May

[as usual, all is friendly smiles and laughs on the most lovable ship in the fleet!]

Comments

[theboogieman]

[hey, Red Fish! while parked on the moon, you guys get a visitor.

...well, more specifically, you get someone repetitively banging on the front door of the ship with far more force than necessary. it's probably knocking, but then again, it might just be some dumbass kicking the hull of the ship over and over. it's hard to tell.]

For Zhas

[child_of_bhaal]

[So long story short, Syeira got very drunk, and Arthur had to chauffeur her back. She'd been put to bed, but she hadn't stayed there. Even drink has a hard time combating her insomnia.

So it's after hours on the ship. She's knocking around in the kitchen while everyone should be asleep. She's doing her utmost best to be quiet while she makes herself coffee. Which means that everything she does is louder than it should be. There will be coffee. Eventually. It might just take her a few extra minutes.]

[Locked to Sam]

[flickerflash]

[At some point during the day, there's a tiny streak of black and white that barrels itself on board the Red Fish and sprints straight for Sam's room. Don't worry if his door's shut, she'll just. Go straight through it, in a blink-and-you'll-miss-it kind of way. Pooka do that kind of thing.

Whether Sam is in his bedroom at the time or not is also a moot point; she scoots right under the bed to the furthest point beneath it and curls into a ball. It doesn't matter. She's in pure flight mode for both kitten and small child, and if she went straight for the person she trusts to make everything better, what of it? Just let her hide under here for a while until she feels better.

S'all good, nothing to see here.

...is that a sock.

GOOD ENOUGH SECURITY BLANKET, I'M TINY.]

oppenn

[kickingand]

[ Dean had begun adapting, he had. He thought he had, at the very least.

And then Cas went and fell asleep and forgot to wake the hell up. Which means that it's time to choose your own adventure!! Or, at least, choose which Dean you're willing to deal with. If any at all (and if the answer is none, I wouldn't be surprised.)

OPTION A: Dean has not left his room when anyone might see for days. His booze consumption is that of noxious levels and it's likely that whatever pot Cas had on him? Is now suddenly Dean's. Because he's a bastard like that and getting a hold of chemicals is a reprieve he finds necessary. Do you smell whatever it is he's smoking? Are you concerned he's died in there? All of the above? Feel free to bang on his door.

OR!

OPTION B: Dean has made his way out of his bedroom whilst being... rather hungover. There's a lot of squinty eyed grumbling going on right about now and he's making his way for coffee and what might be considered food. Sitting down with a plate of gunk in front of him, he sure as hell is not eating it. Would you like to eat it? He might even be heard mumbling to himself- ] There is no goddamn way.

arthur (open options)

[dontthinkaboutelephants]

a ) kitchen (open, day)

[Welp. Being a teenager for a while was kind of embarrassing. He's glad to be back to adulthood, and he leaps back into his projects right away. The data from the survey isn't doing much, so he's compiling a new list of questions on one piece of paper. On other papers, he has a long list of chemicals and notes on them. He's sitting at the table in the kitchen, his chair tipped back against the wall, hovering, as Arthur reads from a book on chemical compounds, a pencil sticking out of his mouth. His papers and books are spread out all over the table, and his hair's sticking up a bit, as if he's been at this for a while and hasn't noticed.]

b ) halls/kitchen (open, night)

[Arthur's a pacer. Always has been. His sleeping hasn't been great lately. And that leads to him pacing a lot, back and forth, down the halls and back to his room. He tries to avoid making sound, but he forgets sometimes. He paces with a frown on his face, deep in thought, his feet bare, his hair natural and wavy, and wearing a t-shirt and pajama pants.

After a while of pacing, he gives up and makes himself a hot cup of coffee. He dumps a ton of sugar and milk in it before taking a seat, sighing and taking a sip. He wishes someone else was up, too.]

c ) coil (closed)

[Arthur doesn't know Coil as well as Syeira does, but she said to check with Coil. It's with a small stack of papers, a pencil behind his ear, and a book tucked under his arm that he strikes out to find Coil. He's kind of noticed where everyone tends to hang out, and he peeks around, starting with the cargo bay. Where you at, Coil?]